


Needs and Victories

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was my first attempt to just write smut, but then feelings invaded. But mostly smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs and Victories

Since the cup they’ve messed around some, both with chicks and with each other, but they haven’t had a chance to dedicate any serious time to mindblowing sex, which is a bit of a bummer, but seriously worth it, because it’s the cup.

While the past few days have been a non-stop party Mike’s really happy to get back to their house (which stopped being  his house sometime in the past month and a half) and sleep for about twelve hours straight. Jeff’s a cuddler, which Mike sometimes minds, but he’s too tired to object. When they wake up they make breakfast together and then take the dog for a walk along the beach, because logical divisions of labor are great, but today they didn’t want to stop sharing space.

It’s a really pleasant morning (early afternoon). It just seems natural that the next thing on their agenda will be sex. Mike has been waiting for this. He has plans.

After the walk they land on the couch, and fall into some low-stakes making out. It’s nice, but Mike has been patient long enough, and soon leads Jeff up to the bedroom.  Their bedroom.

He pulls his shirt off over his head, and says, “I’m really pumped that you can finally fuck me now.”

Jeff looks a bit confused, but mostly turned on.

This isn’t what they normally do. Lots of times there are women involved. If it’s just the two of them Mike tends to take charge of the situation. Jeff, well, Jeff can be a lot of things, but needy is high on the list. Needy and pliant and enthusiastic, which are all traits Mike can appreciate and use to his advantage, but sometimes he has to surrender some of his control.

It doesn’t take Jeff’s dick long to get his brain on board for this course of action. “Awesome,” He says. “I’m up for whatever you want.” Jeff doesn’t get the pun until after it’s left his mouth, and it makes him crack up a bit, and look down at the bulge in his pants.

Mike doesn’t roll his eyes. “Come on already. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Have you been fantasizing about me, Richie?” Jeff asks. “You should tell me what you’ve been thinking us doing.”

Mike has been fantasizing plenty, holding back his sexual frustration until the season ended and he could let it happen. “I’ve been thinking about you holding me down and fucking me until I can’t think. Is that alright?”

Jeff groans. “So it’s going to be one of those times then? It sounds like you’ve got this all planned out.”

“I do,” Mike says. “I didn’t tell you because I thought it would be distracting.”

Jeff leans in to bite against Mike’s neck and mouth his ear. “Yeah, it definitely would have been distracting. Good motivation though.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” Mike says.

“Yeah, next time,” Jeff repeats, snaking his hands inside Mike’s shirt. “Next time we get to the Stanley Cup Finals, next time you feel the need for a real deep dicking, whatever, I’m there for you man.”

Mike really appreciates the sentiment, but can’t say so because Jeff is kissing him so hard it feels bruising. Since he can’t use his words he tries to communicate using his tongue in more creative ways. It’s really nice, especially when one of Jeff’s hands slips to his ass, casually groping before settling and pressing their hips together. Mike’s fine with making out and grinding for a while, since it seems like this is what Jeff’s into, but he’s really looking forward to the main event, so it’s not too long before he’s pulling away, impatient.

Jeff is needy, trying fiercely to pull them together again, but it gives Mike a chance to catch his breath enough to say, “I could suck your cock?” all casually, like it’s a question, which it totally isn’t.

“Sure,” Jeff groans. “Why not.”

Jeff pushes Mike to his knees with strong hands that start on his shoulders before tangling in his hair.

Mike undoes Jeff’s belt. Together they push down slacks and boxers, which Jeff steps out of, losing his shirt along the way. Mike looks up at all that tanned muscle and grins.

He starts slow, licking a bit, mouthing the tip. Only Jeff wants more, and starts pushing for it. Mike could pin Jeff’s hips, could ask that Jeff was gentler with him, but he won’t, he doesn’t want to. He likes the surrender and shortened breath, and he trusts Jeff not to hurt him, but to make it good for both of them.

Mike could wait for Jeff to just go for it, but decides to make things easy. He opens wide and swallows down Jeff’s cock. He relaxes his throat and goes deep. It’s really good. Mike’s been hard for a while, but this is sending even more blood south, keeping things just on the fun side of painful.

Jeff doesn’t move much at first, which is unfortunate, but eventually he manages to pick up on the signals Mike’s been sending, which are shouting, go ahead and fuck my face already, which Jeff can totally do.

His thrusts get more self assured and demanding. Mike is happy to sit back and let it happen. He does try to make things even better, humming or swirling his tongue, but mostly he just takes it.

This lasts until Jeff is pulling his hair and groaning a lot, and it seems like the right time to move on. Mike pulls away, and they breathe heavily at each other until things are feeling a bit more under control.

Mike looks up at Jeff, actually batting his eyelashes a little, just because he can, as he asks, “Fuck me?”

Jeff looks a bit like he was just hit hard with the best present ever, and is nodding enthusiastically. He offers Mike a hand up, which is sweet, if unnecessary. It gets him back on his feet while also bringing their bodies against each other, which makes Mike think there was an ulterior motive.

Jeff’s hands are roaming, pulling at Mike’s clothes with more enthusiasm than coordination, but Mike’s agreeable, and works to get naked fast. Jeff kisses him again, before leaning down to bite and suck at his collar bone, not letting up as they stumble towards the bed.

Mike lets himself fall back, pulling Jeff down on top of him. He’s pretty thoroughly pinned, but doesn’t work to get free, enjoying the struggle to take deep breaths as Jeff marks him up.

He’s going to have some really interesting hickeys after this, and more bruises than ever. It’s a good thing he can tan at home, because he won’t be decent to be shirtless in public. He thinks that it’s a good thing the season’s over, because this would make the locker room awkward, but he wouldn’t be allowing this to happen if the season wasn’t over, so he should just not think about it.

He isn’t thinking about it much. Maybe less than five percent of his brain is wandering into these  what if s, it’s just that they’re the only part of his brain using sentences, not just moans and curse words.

Eventually Jeff gets bored with mouthing bruises onto his chest and neck. He arranges them further up on the bed, shoving Mike to where he wants him. He stretches to reach the nightstand, shifting most his body weight onto Mike so he can grab lube and a condom.

Mike spreads his legs accommodatingly as Jeff squirts some lube on his fingers. Jeff knows what he wants now and doesn’t hold back, starting with one finger because it has been forever, but there’s no hesitance in his movements. Jeff explores, searching for Mike’s prostate intently, and grinning like a loon when he finds it. This gets Mike arching off the bed, stopped by the way Jeff’s other hand is pressing at his hip. Jeff adds a second finger and fucks them in and out, settling into a leisurely pace that allows for multitasking.

Jeff holds Mike down while licking at his nipples, then biting his pectorals, then biting at a nipple, which makes his back arch, but he can’t move, because Jeff is holding him down. Jeff’s fingers are moving steadily inside him, synchronized to the movements of his mouth across Mike’s chest. It’s enough action that he can’t focus on any specific sensation. It’s distracting enough that he can’t form words to tell Jeff to fuck him now.

Jeff could maybe do this forever, or at least try, but Mike needs more. He can’t help all the needy little sounds that are falling out of his mouth, or the way he thrashes when Jeff touches him in just the right spot. It’s overwhelming, in a way that is different then how the past week has been overwhelming, because somehow this is all coming from his body, and from Jeff. This is just them, and it’s almost too much.

He finds his words, because he has to or he’ll go insane. This drive is enough to moan out an order for Jeff to fuck him  now that he knows will get followed. Jeff moves back to put on the condom and slick himself up. Mike takes the break from being covered in six foot four of hockey player to take some deep breaths, and to get onto his hands and knees, because that’s how he wants it.

Jeff pushes in. He doesn’t go slowly, and he doesn’t pause, finding a rhythm right away. It feels great. Mike is so satisfied with his life right now, getting filled with dick, after winning the cup. It’s basically the best. He’s never going to tell anyone how great this is. He feels like a crazy person.

Mike knows he’s saying things, but they’re mostly “harder,” or “more,” or “fuck.” He’s been enjoying the noise Jeff’s been making. It makes him feel appreciated. He’s never, ever, going to tell Jeff that the way he grunts is sexy. There’s been plenty of communication, but not a whole lot of real words until Jeff leans forward against his back. Their sweaty skin is sticking together, and Jeff licks his ear before he starts talking.

“God, you’re fantastic Richie. So tight for me. I just love it. I love that I’m the one who gets to do this to you. It’s so good. Fuck, I love you.”

Mike can’t even deal with this right now. He moans.

“Yeah Carts. Fuck me harder. Just like that.”

Jeff kisses his neck before doing as Mike asked and speeding up his thrusts. It’s great. 

Jeff reaches around to put a hand on Mike’s dick, but he slaps it away. He’s determined to ride this over the brink.

They should do this more often. Well, no they shouldn’t, but it’s awfully good when they do. It’s not an activity for every day, it’s just for special occasions. Winning the Stanley Cup is pretty fucking special.

Mike can tell he’s going to come soon. He can feel it building. He just moans and lets himself get pushed closer to ecstasy.

When his orgasm does come it’s uncontrollable. He’s shaking with his eyes closed and can’t think of anything at all. This orgasm is the latest event in a string of victories that started with getting his best friend back.

He collapses on the bed. He can tell that Jeff is still above him, but can’t care about that until he can breathe regularly and think at all. He rolls over and opens his eyes to see Jeff jerking off frantically. He should probably help with that. He reaches toward Jeff, but doesn’t get there.

Instead Jeff grabs his hand and laces their fingers together. Jeff’s other hand is still on his cock, and this won’t take long at all. He can feel how close Jeff is in the strength of his grip and the cadence of his moans. It’s familiar.

Jeff comes, and Mike’s glad he doesn’t wind up with a broken finger. It’s good though, to be like this, together. Even if Jeff is smothering him again. It’s really good.

He shifts so Jeff lying more on the bed than on him. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but his arm is starting to feel numb and the sticky sweat on their skin has dried. He can tell that Jeff is still awake from the way his thumb is still rubbing along his hand.

He’s lying in bed with his best friend after great sex and winning the Stanley Cup. It isn’t a dream. They’re still holding hands. He doesn’t move.

“Hey Carts,” He whispers. “I love you too.”

 


End file.
